Dossier: Wraith
by Read too much fan fiction
Summary: Inspired by "The Wildcard". Taken from the Mojave by a freak accident, the Courier decides to start over in the Mass Effect universe. However, "there ain't no rest for the wicked."
1. Prologue

Inspired by "The Wildcard"

Disclaimer: I don't own Mass Effect or Fallout: New Vegas

Prologue: A home lost

Entrance to the Divide, Mojave Wasteland, Year 2281 A.D.

The arid winds of the Divide followed the lone man as he stepped back into the Mojave wasteland. He stopped at the entrance of the canyon and took off his helmet. Breathing deeply, he looked out into the wasteland. The air was cleaner here which wasn't surprising since the Divide was the site of a past nuclear attack. He had needed to use the riot gear helmet's air filters to be able to breath in the irradiated canyon. Running a hand through his messy black hair, the man strolled over to a nearby abandoned pre-war car. He jumped up on the hood and sat down, watching the sunset. To the west, the lights of Primm and the nearby NCR camp began to flicker into existence as the setting sun slipped behind the mountains. In the distance, he could just barely make out the outline of the two giant statues that loomed over the Mojave Outpost. A few young geckos ran across the highway, their shrill cries echoing across the wasteland as they search for an animal or unwary traveler to hunt. A sigh escaped the man as he watched darkness fall upon the Mojave.

"Another dead end, just like Benny was," he muttered bitterly. "The wasteland's safe now, hopefully for good this time, but Ulysses didn't know anything about my past. I thought he was stalking me or something." Unconsciously, he brought his right hand to the side of his head, rubbing the cratered scar that the gunshot wound had left. His messy hair covered most of the scar, but a few tendril-like marks ran down his forehead. These marks had been left by the stitches that Doctor Mitchel had used to patch him up.

"Maybe I just need a break right now. Saving the Mojave twice in three months is tiring," the man mused. "I can track down leads on my past later." With this thought in his mind, he fished out the transporter to Big Mountain.

* * *

Hidden both the descending darkness and the giant sign that stood opposite of the Nevada Highway Patrol Station, a lone figure breathed in and out steadily as he finally sighted the profile of his target. The annoymous tip had been a long shot, but after a week of stakeout it had paid off in spades. Finally, the Wasteland would learn that even so called 'heroes' paid the ultimate price when they invoked the wrath of the Legion. Slowly, he centered his crosshairs of his rifle's scope on the man's torso. "For the Caesar, you son of a bitch," the assassin murmured. As the figure pulled out something, he exhaled and squeezed the trigger.

* * *

As he activated the transporter, a rifle shot cracked out, nicking the device. The energy emitted from the transporter crackled ominously. Suddenly bolts of energy flew out, igniting the car's engine. An instant later, a giant explosion echoed across the wasteland. The assassin ran over, looking for a body. He found nothing but the remains of a car and a strange broken device that might have been a toy gun. The Courier was gone from the Mojave wasteland, never to be seen again.


	2. Chapter One

Redid this chapter by adding some more details on Wraith's history and by changing Shepard's first name.

Disclaimer: I don't own Fallout: New Vegas or Mass Effect

Chapter One: Returning to your roots

In the rather spartan office of Councilor Anderson, two men faced the projections of the Citadel Council, the governing body that controlled Citadel space. The meeting was tense, and both parties had showed no signs of backing down from their respective positions, even when the video footage from Freedom's Progress had been shown. Luckily, a compromise had just been reached, and the first human Spectre had been reinstated…with a catch.

Alexander Shepard sighed as the three members of the Council ended the meeting. "All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing," he muttered. Honestly, he thought, you would think they would have been even a _tiny_ bit grateful for saving their lives. Guess politicians had shorter memories then most other people.

"I see William's love of poetry had rubbed off on you, Shepard," remarked Anderson, breaking in on Alex's thoughts. "Still, it went a lot better than I was expecting, though you do know that your reinstatement as a Spectre was largely symbolic?"

"I know; the Terminus Systems don't recognize the authority of the Council or its agents. Maybe this was their way of repaying me for saving their lives."

"Quite possible. However, how _are _you going to investigate the missing colonies? Your old team broke up after your death."

"Timmy gave me some dossiers for potential recruits..."

"Wait, _Timmy_?" Anderson turned towards Alistair with an almost incredulous look on his face.

"Yeah, my slang for the Illusive Man." Alex clarified casually, as if he wasn't belittling one of the most powerful humans in the galaxy. "I'm not working with him willingly nor do I respect him. Therefore, he's 'Timmy' to me."

Anderson gave a short chuckle, "Only you, Shepard, could show such blatant disrespect to a superior and get away with it. It's good to have you back. Still, while the Council is unwilling to help you, I'm not." Striding over towards his desk, Anderson rifled through the drawers, and then held out a datapad. "This is information on a rather 'unique' freelancer that sprung up about two years ago. He has worked with the Alliance in the past and he is trustworthy and reliable. I'll call him and have him contact you if you're interested."

Alex gave a relieved smile as he accepted the gift. "Thanks. It's good to know I still have friends. By the way…is Ashley okay?"

"She's fine. Got promoted to Operations Chief, but she's on assignment right now. I can't say where…"

"Because I'm working with Cerberus, a sworn enemy of both the Council and the Systems Alliance," Alex finished in a heavy tone. His eyes saddened and closed as he sighed. He turned to look out over the Presidium, lost in thought.

Anderson looked at him with a hint of pity and regret. "If you want, Shepard," he said softly, "I could send a message to her…"

"To tell her what? That I'm working with a pro human terrorist group to fight an enemy thought to be the delusion of a rogue Spectre?" Shepard's answer was full of self-mockery and disgust.

"She knows you, Shepard, and she was rather upset after you died. It wouldn't hurt to send a message."

"And I might not come back from this mission, David." Anderson was startled, both by the use of his first name and the resigned tone of Alex's answer. "I don't want to give her false hope. If I survive, I'll come back and turn myself in for questioning, but right now, I've got work to do." Alex turned around and held out his hand, "It was good to see you again, Anderson. I'll send any data about the Collectors or the missing colonies to you. Thank you for the help."

Anderson took the offered hand and replied, "You too, Shepard. Be careful out there."

* * *

Miranda Lawson was sitting down at her personal terminal, looking over her report to the Illusive Man when the camera feed from outside her quarters showed Shepard outside. With an inaudible sigh, she saved and closed the report as her door opened. She looked up briefly as Alex entered her office and sat down opposite her. "Shepard, what can I do for you?" she asked in a neutral tone of voice. Hopefully he wouldn't be looking for small talk or personal information this time.

"I wanted to know if Cerberus had any information on this man," replied Alex evenly as he slid a datapad across her desk. At Miranda's raised eyebrow, he added, "Apparently, he is a freelancer that worked with the Alliance in the past. Anderson recommended him for this mission, and he generally has a good read on people."

Miranda nodded absentmindedly as she opened the file. As she read the contents, her eyes widened minutely.

"Something wrong, Miranda?" Alex's question broke in on her thoughts. She sighed again, and leaned back in her chair.

"Originally, Cerberus was going to hire a mercenary named Zaeed Massani to assist you," she explained, "He was an experienced soldier who had skills thought to be beneficial towards your mission. However, before we could confirm the deal, Zaeed was killed by him," she said, tapping the datapad.

"Who is he?" Alex inquired, his curiosity aroused. Massani was a legend in the Terminus System for surviving pretty much anything; from thresher maw attacks to ambushes by armies. It would take either tremendous luck or skill to bring him down.

"He is known as 'Wraith', and he is an unknown freelancer." Alex frowned at this piece of information, but motioned for Miranda to continue. " There are no records of the man past 2183 C.E. He first appeared on Illium, when he worked as a kind of consultant to the local law enforcement. Anything they couldn't do, he did. He then took up similar jobs all over the Terminus Systems. His motivations are still unknown. However, because he follows a moral code similar to yours, Shepard, and he often works outside the law to achieve his goals, he gained the nickname 'The Terminus Spectre'. He has worked with the Alliance in the past, but had a falling out with them a few months ago. Since then, he has fallen off the map."

Alex asked curiously, "What kind of argument did he have with the Alliance?"

"A batarian politician named Jath'Amon was negotiating with the Council about possibly opening diplomatic channels. Wraith worked with the Alliance to expose Jath'Amon as a terrorist leader so Jath'Amon was arrested on charges of terrorism and corruption."

"Wait, I thought you and Jacob were the ones who stopped Jath'Amon. Isn't that how Jacob got into Cerberus?" Alex asked with a hint of confusion.

"While we did the legwork, Wraith was the one to uncover the plot in the first place and he alerted the Alliance," Miranda clarified. She continued, "Jath'Amon was released back to the Batarian Hegemony, who had denounced him and wanted to cover the fiasco up in exchange for promises of decreased piracy and observance of Citadel laws. Wraith believed that Jath'Amon had captured civilians in the Wards and that they were been taken out of Citadel space on the ship escorting Jath'Amon. Both the Council and the Alliance disagreed with him, mostly because they were making good progress with the negotiations and they didn't want him to rock the boat. Two weeks later, a video confession went over the extranet. It was from Jath'Amon, who admitted to capturing civilians on the Citadel to sell as slaves. It ended with his execution, and a message denouncing both the Council and the Alliance as inept and corrupt organizations, and that 'the vengeful wraiths of those denied justice' would guide his hand in cleansing the galaxy. When the Alliance sent a cruiser to investigate the ship, they found that some of captured civilians were piloting it that was carrying Jath'Amon. All of the crew and Jath'Amon had been killed, and the civilians identified Wraith as the one who had killed the crew and freed them."

"Impressive," Alex muttered thoughtfully, "Why didn't you try to hire him?"

Miranda gave a slight frown and answered," We did, but he... declined rather vehemently. Over the last few months, he has crossed paths with Cerberus numerous times and managed to shut down one of our cells. Needless to say, he has no love for us."

"Sounds like a man I can agree with," Alex said cheekily. At this remark, Miranda scowled faintly. Alex decided to change gears before things got ugly. "Any idea where he is at right now?"

"None. He appears briefly when he is on a mission, and then vanishes afterward. We haven't been able to track him down, though we believe he is based somewhere in the Terminus Systems at the moment."

"Well, Anderson gave me his location. He's at Omega for the moment. Do you think he would be useful?"

"As much as I would hate to admit it, yes. He's adapt at infiltration, hacking, and he can hold his own in a firefight, but remember, he did declined to work with Cerberus before."

"Well then," Alex said thoughtfully as Joker announced their arrival at Omega, "Maybe he will listen to me."

* * *

The heavy bass drilled into the man's chest as he sat in a private booth alone in the infamous nightclub. Pulsing neon lights only showed his armored profile and the glint of the red visor that sat over the old metal gas mask. An untouched drink sat in front of him. The man looked at it, reminiscing. What was he doing with his life? He had been a hero once, but now he was just another freelancer. This galaxy was almost _worse_ then the Mojave. There were very few decent people here, and certainly no one he could trust. Governments were corrupt, and bad guys always seemed to win. Suddenly, a pinging noise came from the man's omni-tool. He frowned under the helmet, and opened the link. "I thought I made it quite clear that I had cut all ties with the Alliance and the Council, Anderson."

"I'm not calling on behalf of the Alliance or the Council, Wraith. I'm asking for your help as a friend."

"Didn't think we _were _friends Anderson. Not after my message to the galaxy."

"True, but I understand why you did that. I also know that you're tired of being some two-bit gun for hire."

Wraith sighed. Anderson was right; being a freelancer was difficult, since he rarely associated with decent people. "What do you have for me?"

"Shepard is alive and coming to Omega." At this, Wraith sat up. Shepard was a legendary figure in this galaxy, both for his skill on the battlefield and his moral code. Wraith had always wanted to meet the man; out of everyone he met over the last two years, Shepard seemed like the kind of man he would see eye to eye with. "He's investigating the disappearance of human colonies in the Terminus Systems, but he needs help."

"He's a Spectre though, doesn't he have all the help he needs?"

Anderson sighed, and Wraith suddenly got the picture. "He's been blacklisted, hasn't he?"

"Yes, mainly because Cerberus is funding this mission." At this, Wraith frowned and his voice grew hard.

"I'm not working with those xenophobic bastards…"

"And you wouldn't be," Anderson cut in, "You're working with Shepard. He doesn't like that fact that he has to work with Cerberus either, but no one else is looking into the missing colonies." Anderson's voice lowered sadly. "Also, I need to know exactly where Shepard's loyalties lie. He seems like the same man…"

"But if he sides with Cerberus, you want me to neutralize him," Wraith finished.

"Correct." It was obvious from the tone in Anderson's voice that he didn't like this situation one bit, but that it was necessary. "As for pay…"

"Don't worry about it. I've got enough credits for now, and you were right: I'm tired of wandering around the galaxy without a purpose. That all Anderson?"

"Yes, stay safe Wraith."

"You too." The link went dead.

Wraith sat for a while, reflecting. Then he got up, and made his way towards the exit. "Time to play hero again," he muttered.


	3. Chapter Two

Sorry about the long wait, hit some writer's block. I'll try to update more frequently. Thanks to everyone who read this.

Chapter Two: The Spectre and the Wraith

If there was one thing Wraith had learned in his two years in this galaxy, it was the importance of a first impression. In a galaxy where the population easily reached into the trillions, people rarely took the time to learn about someone. Instead, they relied heavily on rumors, reputation, and their initial thoughts during the first meeting. To Wraith, this way of judging people was flawed, and lazy since most people wore a mask in public. Still, the pace here was much faster than the Mojave so he understood why this was done. Now, how to make the right impression on his new employer?

Wraith leaned against the grimy wall of a hidden side alley that overlooked one of the many cluttered and disheveled docking bays, hidden among the shadows. With one eye on the sleek profile of Normandy SR-2, he perused the profile on Shepard streaming onto his omni-tool. The official reports didn't hold much, but from reading between the lines, Wraith surmised that Shepard followed a strict moral code that took precedence over official orders. The classified AAR reports sent over by Anderson reinforced his initial impression.

"Sparing the rachni queen on Noveria couldn't be a popular decision," Wraith muttered aloud.

"No doubt, and did you see the reports from Feros? Almost all of the colonists that were enslaved were taken down with non-lethal force," replied a synthetic female voice, "Still, I can't see why he would work willingly with Cerberus. He took down a lot of their operations when he was hunting for Saren."

"That's because he feels like he has no other choice, Veronica. Without Citadel or Alliance support, Shepard can't mobilize a task force or even a single team to investigate the Reapers. If the rest of the Reapers are as deadly as Sovereign was, then time is of the essence." A sudden movement from the corner of his eye caught his attention, and he closed the program and watched as a small group emerged from the ship.

* * *

"_2 minutes,"_ Alex thought with a hint of amusement as he stared down the batarian that was glaring at him, "_Just 2 minutes here and I'm already considering killing one of the locals. That has to be a record."_ With a mental sigh, he fixed a bored expression on his face and said, "Cut the attitude, Moklan. I'm not here to cause problems for Omega."

Moklan sneered, "Things tend to blow up around you, Shepard. Can't blame Aria for keeping an eye on you." He jerked his thumb over his shoulder and said, "Afterlife. _Now_." With a final glare, he stalked off. As Alex, Jacob, Miranda, and Kasumi started to walk cautiously into the depths of Omega, EDI's voice came over the comm.

"I have detected quarantine warnings in the district where Dr. Mordin Solus runs a clinic. Except resistance at the transport station."

"Got it, and Archangel?"

"Messages intercepted from the three primary mercenary groups on Omega indicate that they are planning an offensive against Archangel. They have set up a recruiting station near the club Afterlife, which may contain more information on his situation.

"Understood, any information on Wraith?"

"Negative, Shepard."

"If someone like Wraith is staying on Omega, he would have to check in with Aria," Miranda added, "She likes to meet anyone with a reputation."

"To assert her authority or to kill anyone who's a threat?" asked Alex dryly.

"A bit of both, actually. Aria is the closest thing that Omega has to a leader, and she got to that position through manipulation and violence. Wraith is known to tolerate people like Aria, but he's unpredictable at best." Miranda answered as the group walked into the market sector.

"But is he that dangerous?" Kasumi asked, cutting into to the conversation, "Aria practically rules Omega, and she's got enough muscle to keep it that way."

"Yes and no," replied Jacob, "He isn't like a superhuman, but he has good instincts and a knack for surviving. He's also highly charismatic, and can hold his own against pretty much everything. Wraith tends to favor stealth over force, and he's ruthless against his enemies. Aria is probably worried about Wraith starting an uprising."

"Do you know him, Jacob?" Alex asked as they entered the crowds of denizens that were milling around the many shops.

"Not personally, but I met him briefly while I was chasing Jath'Amon," Jacob explained, "He had infiltrated the terrorist cell, and was the one who tipped us off about the ambassador's plot."

"Anything you can tell me about him, Jacob?" Alex said as they entered a shop with a single quarian at the counter. He had been fiddling with a piece of salvage, but looked up quickly as they entered.

"Not much, unfortunately. I only met him once, on the Citadel. He was furious about Jath'Amon being handed over to the Hegemony, and was trying to stop the transfer. For some reason, I think the slavery was more upsetting to Wraith than the assassination plot"

"The Council has plenty of blood on their hands, and they have C-Sec and the Citadel fleet to protect them. Those civilians didn't do anything; they were just unlucky enough to be snatched, and no one cared," added a sight metallic voice.

Alex spun around, his pistol drawn. Miranda's and Jacob's hands pulsed with biotics as Kasumi suddenly cloaked. Standing in the doorway was a human wearing a black, high collared trench coat over a suit of light armor of an unknown manufacture. The face was covered by a metal gas mask and old World War Two style helmet. A red visor covered the man's eyes, and what appeared to be an old rangefinder was mounted at his right temple. Surprisingly, no one had detected the man before he had announced his presence.

"Impressive reflexes, all of you," he continued, not showing any unease at facing four armed hostiles while unarmed, "But let's not make a scene here. I think you're scaring Kenn."

Alex glanced over his shoulder to see the quarian cowering under the counter, trying to shield his body from the impeding firefight. Looking back to the man the doorway, he slowly lowered his pistol and said, "I take that you are Wraith?"

"Correct, Shepard."

Alex met the gaze of the red visor with coolness, though he felt slightly disconcerted inside. The man had the aura of a hunter around him, one that command respect. To Alex, it felt being a field mouse under the sharp gaze of hawk. His instincts screamed danger, but for the moment, he disregarded them. Despite his first impression, Alex felt that the man held no ill intentions towards him or his squad for the moment. He motioned to his squad to lower their weapons. As Jacob and Miranda's biotic aura faded from view, Kasumi reappeared behind Wraith, lowering her sparking omni-tool.

"Kenn, why don't you help Mr. Taylor and Ms. Lawson out? If they purchase anything, give them my discount. I believe I need to have a word with Shepard." With those words, Wraith sidestepped Kasumi and walked outside. Alex noticed that his steps were very quiet, almost making no noise whatsoever.

"Well, this ought to be interesting," mused Alex.


End file.
